


A Mother's Gift

by Sandentwins



Category: Taiyou no Ko Esteban | Les Mystérieuses Cités d'or | The Mysterious Cities of Gold
Genre: Backstory, Character Study, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Zia's Powers, idk how else to call these
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23461342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandentwins/pseuds/Sandentwins
Summary: Zia reflects on what little she remembers of her past, and how maybe everything had made sense since the start.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	A Mother's Gift

Zia couldn't remember many things about her past. She's always assumed there wasn't much to remember; after all, she was pretty young when the conquistadors abducted her. It was a miracle that she could still recall her father's teachings about plants and remedies, for everything around this time was a blur in her memory.

She remembered the landscapes. The mountains, the wild plains of home. The alpacas grazing on the short grass of the hills, the sea and its murmurs carried by the wind. The song of the heights, of the condors and their voices, that echoed to her heart like music she could not forget. It was something dear to her, something that resurfaced even further as she and her new friends traveled across the New World for the first time. Every sight, every step brought something back to her, almost like digging up forgotten treasure. 

Following her experiences in China, she started to remember even more, and she wondered how she could have forgotten it in the first place. She sought to recall these forgotten moments, these little slivers of the past, as if to find out answers she didn't even know she's been seeking.

She remembered her parents. She remembered how they seemed like strangers to one another, never overtly affectionate with each other, always so formal; yet their gestures, their touches were laced with hidden tenderness. She knew it had been an arranged marriage, for they both came from noble families and such was the custom, but she was happy that they had found companionship in one another, if not love. They were never fighting, nor were they particularly romantic, but they worked as a pair and respected one another, so much so that Zia felt it to be the type of relationship she wanted for herself, for nothing could top it. And of course, they both loved her with all their hearts, and made sure to show it.

Her father was such a gentle and soft man. As far as she could remember, he's always had white hair and wrinkles, and a slight tremble to his voice that told of his upcoming weakness. She's never heard him scream or speak above a whisper, and each of his words seemed to carry some deeper, profound meaning whenever he spoke. She's come to associate him with the sound of a brew boiling away, with the scent of freshly-chopped herbs, with the soft pounding of a pestle into some squishy leaves. When Zia met him again on that day, everything about him had seemed to overwhelm her, for he was both exactly like her memories and so different at the same time. He was indeed the man she remembered, but grief and age had worn him down so much that she could barely recognize him under his fatigued traits. And it hurt to know.

Her mother died when she was still young, and her face seemed to elude Zia, always in her reach but never quite in her grasp. She was not a certain face, but a myriad of scattered sensations: the embrace of her solid arms, the touch of a chubby hand over hers, a slight tug in her hair as it was being carefully combed. She was kind, gentle, and brought some flowery fragrance with her wherever she stepped. When Zia found some similar flowers during her time in India, it felt like she could recall even more memories associated with that scent: a kind laughter, a warm smile, the clinking of her bracelets as she moved her hands to do some obscure work. 

It was her who gave Zia the medallion of the Sun, who told her to always keep it with her at any cost. And from the top of her four years of age, she already understood it as a sacred mission, something serious to always obey. She was meant to keep it over her heart like her mother, and her grand-mother, and all the mothers that came before them to carry on this duty. Yes, she recalled her cryptic words that did not quite make sense to her back then, and how serious and somber it felt, but also how close it brought the two of them together. 

She's never had time to think about it. But as time passed, as the children went through new countries and adventures, current events seemed to echo her mother's words. That night in India, as she stared at her reflection in the water, Zia thought back not only on the crowns of the sunken City, but also on what she had been told. 

Her mother had always told her that keeping the medallion was an important mission. But the way she worded it let imply there was something else to it. Zia desperately tried to figure it out, but she could only remember so much from such a young age, from before everything was destroyed and taken away by her life in Spain. She felt as if everything was about gone forever, lost to time and the faultiness of human memory, and there would be no way to save it.

But the more time passed, and the more she started to understand it within herself. The medallion wasn't but a shiny jewel, nor was she but a guardian of the keys. As she watched Esteban struggle with his ability to command the sun, as she thought back to her own role in this adventure, to how she's just lived it more than experienced it, she came to realize that she had to play an active part in it. 

She couldn't remember her mother's exact words, but she recalled many other strange experiences. When she was little, barely in age to walk, she and her mother had come across a wild condor eating away at a dead alpaca. And instead of taking her away from here like any other mother would have, she's encouraged Zia to approach it. And it only felt natural when the wild bird dropped its defensive stance, and let the little girl touch it. More than that, it became her childhood companion, abandoning everything to be a toddler's pet. What had she done back then, to tame a wild condor with a single touch? How come Pato never forgot her, even long after she had left home, and recognized her after all these years? She's never questioned it, nor had her mother. 

Did her mother know about her daughter's gift with animals? Was it something she _expected_?

The more she thought back on it, the more things started to slowly make sense. Her mother had never been cruel or bad to her, far from it; yet whenever her daughter had been faced with danger, she didn't intervene. More than once did she stop her father from interfering as well, as if...as if she was expecting little Zia to do something about it by herself. And never had Zia gotten hurt, at least from what she could remember. Had she had that much trust in her own child? Or was she _testing_ her somehow?

After her mother's death, her father tried to protect Zia at all costs. He tried to turn her attention away from danger, to instead teach her more peaceful arts like herbal science or the reading of quipus. And indeed, she forgot about it, until her experience in the sunken City brought back a semblance of memory. 

She's always had a gift with animals, that she thought was mere gentleness towards already-docile creatures. Then came the figments of foresight, those moments where she _knew_ something was about to happen in the world around her. She thought it to be coincidences, but with time, she learned to recognize the signs. Perhaps it was through the same way by which animals and people knew they were about to die, subtle changes in their heartbeat or their perception, or something even more obscure. 

Perhaps her mother had had the same gift. Perhaps this was how she knew, how she just always _knew_.

And then, came the crowns. That moment where her mind had been translated to movement, where the cubes had reacted to her will. As far as she knew, nothing of the sort had ever happened...but in that moment, she could as well wonder. If everything that happened before had been true, could it be that something so strange be possible? The Cities and their quest had changed her conception of “strange”, to the point where anything might as well happen. And even if it were to be false, there was no hurt in trying, right?

So she tried. That night, she tried, and let her mind run free. She let the words of her mother guide her, as she closed her eyes and simply let things happen. And when the pebble started to float and come closer to her, it didn't even faze her, for it just felt _natural_.

This was what her mother meant. This was no docility or foresight: this was something beyond the realm of mind. This was what she's been _trained_ to do. 

Zia had never seen it happen before. But she was still growing up, and so were her abilities. For a moment, she wondered whether things would have progressed at a different rate, had her mother still been alive and had Zia not been captured. If by the age of fourteen, she was merely learning to levitate things, how further along would she have learned, had things been different? She dreaded to know, yet the thought of all the possibilities made her feel more excited than ever. 

It all made sense. If she and Esteban were both tasked with keeping the medallions of the Sun, why would he be the only one to have some ability to show for it? So far, his control over the sun had been a key in showing the way and opening new doors, so why couldn't she have something that revealed new paths as well? She's long since accepted her role would be to decipher the golden quipus they'd find, but after they left the Inca lands, that skill lost almost all value. If anything, Tao had done all of the deciphering from that point on, and she couldn't help but feel a little replaced and left aside. 

But now, Zia would have the occasion to shine again. Sure, it was petty of her to think like that, but had she not earned it? This ability, this power was her mother's before her, she was sure of it now. Even though she's never witnessed it, she was sure her mother had had something similar, as well as all her foremothers before her. This was their mission, this was what she'd been born for. Her abilities were still growing, but so was she, and both were becoming stronger with time. For she was a Chosen One, and it was her duty to use her skills to uphold that role. 

She'd carry on her mission, for it was what she's been trained to do. Only now did she realize it.

Only now did things make so much more sense.

**Author's Note:**

> look i like zia's powers okay  
> go take your discourse elsewhere and wait for the answers in s4 dangit


End file.
